


Day Two: Ghost/Vampire

by Euphorion



Series: Writober [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Ghosts, M/M, the ghost kuroko au that everyone must write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8194627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphorion/pseuds/Euphorion
Summary: Aomine sighed theatrically, taking a right to head into the mall proper,  and took a sip of the milkshake. It was pretty good—vanilla wasn’t bad, he just didn’t understand why anyone would order it when chocolate existed. “You just want to live vicariously through me.”
  Kuroko raised a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s the only way I’m living, you know?”  Aomine’s cheerful mood vanished. “Do you always have to bring it up?”  Kuroko drifted along next to him. “Humor is what keeps me from going mad,” he said, matter-of-fact. “That, and you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm incapable of writing any combination of AoKagaKuro without the third, sorry not sorry.

“I don’t even like vanilla,” Aomine complained. He had to give himself the nigh-daily reminder that he could just let the door swing shut behind him, that holding it open for Tetsu would only make everyone look at him weird. He let it fall, and didn’t even turn to watch his friend walk through it.

“I know,” Kuroko said softly, and when Aomine glanced casually at him he saw him smiling a little teasing smile. “Indulge me?”

Through him, Aomine watched pedestrians wait to cross the street. Despite his complaints, he felt good. He’d played well in practice, and he was enjoying walking around in the daylight with Kuroko. Usually it was weirder during the day. At night Kuroko was mostly opaque—almost fully real. Direct sunlight washed him out. But there was something about the way the late afternoon sunlight played around and through him today that replaced Aomine’s usual uneasiness with a kind of awe. It was like having a friend made of crystal, or very pale blue flame. 

He sighed theatrically, taking a right to head into the mall proper, and took a sip of the milkshake. It was pretty good—vanilla wasn’t bad, he just didn’t understand why anyone would order it when chocolate existed. “You just want to live vicariously through me.”

Kuroko raised a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s the only way I’m living, you know?”

Aomine’s cheerful mood vanished. “Do you always have to bring it up?”

Kuroko drifted along next to him. “Humor is what keeps me from going mad,” he said, matter-of-fact. “That, and you.”

Aomine ground his teeth to keep himself from blushing. “Yeah, well,” he grumbled, “what keeps me from going mad is not talking about shit.”

“Aomine-kun, that does not sound healthier,” Kuroko pointed out. “Drink your milkshake.”

Aomine scowled. “Tetsu, you—”

“Dai-chan!”

Aomine blinked, remembering where he was, and looked around to see Momoi making a beeline for him, cutting through the crowds of the mall. When she reached them she smiled brightly, took him by the arm, and murmured, “You look like you’re totally nuts.”

Aomine rolled his shoulders. “Sorry,” he muttered back. “Tetsu and I—”

Momoi waved vaguely in the direction of Kuroko. “Hey,” she said.

Kuroko smiled at her. “Hey.”

“He says hey,” Aomine reported dutifully. While Momoi was—thanks to some adventures with ouija boards and poltergeist behavior—convinced of Kuroko’s existence, she couldn’t see or hear him. In fact, Aomine seemed to be the only one who could see or hear him. Which. He was pretty sure if he had a personal ghost who was anyone other than the one he had, he would fucking hate it. Ask him a year ago if he’d want someone following him around all the time, relying on him for friendship and companionship and—whatever, he’d have said _hell no._

But Kuroko was. Kuroko was kind of perfect. He was quiet, but knew when to fill silences that Aomine didn’t want empty. He was smart, and easy to get along with, and he had this way of teasing Aomine that was totally different than the way Momoi did—he and Momoi traded barbs because they knew where to aim but used blunted blades; Kuroko’s teasing cut deep without drawing blood. Aomine sometimes suspected he wasn’t just a ghost, but a psychic ghost, the way he slid his hooks into Aomine’s brain and tugged.

“Oh, hey,” Momoi said, her gaze over Aomine’s shoulder. “Isn’t that that new kid from Seirin?”

Aomine turned to follow her gaze. Sure enough, it was: Kagami Taiga, scowling around himself as if looking for something. Aomine narrowed his eyes, trying to size him up. They hadn’t met on the court yet—he’d only heard stories of the guy’s power and skill from Kise and Midorima, and seen him practice—but it was only a matter of time. His hair and eyes were muddy red, and he was tall, with a sort of prowling grace. And. Maybe hanging out with a ghost all the time was making him more in tune with people’s energies and shit, because Aomine felt an enormous—weight, around him. Not a downward weight, but an almost orbital one. A centered kind of presence.

Maybe he felt Aomine’s eyes on him, or maybe he just noticed him and Momoi standing stock still in the middle of a bunch of constantly moving people, but Kagami looked up and saw them. He walked over, sliding sideways through the much-shorter crowd in a way that made Aomine snort.

“Hey,” Kagami said. “You guys are from Touo, right?”

Momoi smiled at him. “Momoi Satsuki,” she said, and gestured to Aomine. “Dai-chan.” Her eyes were twinkling. Aomine got the impression she was kind of pissed at him for forgetting not to look like a crazy person in public.

He scowled at her. “Aomine,” he corrected. 

Kagami nodded. “Kagami Taiga,” he said, as if they wouldn’t already know. “I was hoping you knew where I could find some good running—oh, who’s your friend?”

Aomine stared at him. “What?” He glanced at Kuroko, who was also staring, eyes wide, at Kagami. Who was—unmistakably—staring back, waiting. 

“What?” Momoi said, her voice faint. “You—you can see him?”

Kagami looked puzzled. “Of course I can see him.”

Aomine couldn’t look away from Kuroko’s face. Kuroko usually fell into the habits of life—if you looked at him in stillness you could see his chest rise and fall, for instance. Now, however, he was impossibly still. His eyes were wide and luminous.

Kagami ran a hand through his hair. “What’s up, you okay?”

For a moment Kuroko remained still, and then it was like he switched back on. He smiled—not his soft small smile that Aomine was used to, but wide and full of wistful joy. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I’m okay.” He held out a hand. “Kuroko Tetsuya.”

“Dai-chan,” hissed Momoi, “what’s happening—”

“Shut up,” Aomine muttered back, his eyes on Kagami. They’d tried the touch thing before—Kuroko could manipulate objects for short periods, or knock against things to make noise, but when Aomine tried to touch him all he felt was a sort of. Cool motion, like holding your hand under water only a fraction of a degree colder than human skin.

Kagami reached out and took Kuroko’s hand. “Good to meet you, man.” He let go quickly. “Fuck, your hands are like ice.”

Momoi made a choked, almost panicked laughing sound. They were starting to get looks, people skirting widely around them.

“Sorry,” said Kuroko, still smiling that smile that made Aomine’s stomach clench like a fist. He realized—startled—that he’d never seen Kuroko smile at anyone but him, ever.

“Tetsu,” he said, because of the stares, and to interrupt his staring contest with Kagami. “We gotta go.”

Kuroko looked at him, and seemed to—fade. Not just his smile, but his whole self becoming a little less distinct. “Right,” he said. He looked at Kagami. “I’ll see you again.”

Aomine wanted—desperately, jealously—to grab his hand and tug him away.

Kagami rubbed at one of his eyes, frowning. “I—yeah, sure.”

Aomine spun on his heel, hoping whatever—tie, or bond, he had to his ghost it would tug Kuroko along. Momoi bade Kagami a hasty goodbye, giving him directions to the nearest sporting goods store, and then ran to catch up. “What the hell was that?” she hissed.

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know,” Aomine growled. “Tetsu? What the fuck?”

Kuroko was keeping effortless pace with him, but where Aomine and Momoi were walking quickly, he seemed almost carried along, flung by some carefree breeze. “I don’t know,” he said, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. The sunset shone through his smile. “I don’t know.”


End file.
